


Licentious Wants

by Aoida_blue



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU - Comicverse
Genre: Crazy times with Dick, Dubcon Kissing, Jason does not want, M/M, Possessive Behavior, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-27
Updated: 2013-05-27
Packaged: 2017-11-08 16:07:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/444983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aoida_blue/pseuds/Aoida_blue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Curiosity killed the cat. Jason should have known that, hell, he'd been that cat. He should have learnt his lesson, should have read the urgent message Red Robin had been broadcasting and should have tried to find out where Robin and Alfred had disappeared to.</p><p>It would have been the smart thing to do. </p><p>But Jason had never been smart with anything Bat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Українська available: [Хтиві бажання](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9408047) by [AOrvat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AOrvat/pseuds/AOrvat)



> Anyone who follows me on Tumblr knows I have been writing this fic on and off for... a while. Since the tags always decide to die on me, the time has come to cross post this baby to the Archive. 
> 
> Warning time: implied violence, forced drug use, possible dub-con  
> (please note guys, dub-con is listed a warning because of the situation could be seen as leading to non-con sex, it won’t go there but this is a general trigger warning).
> 
> If any these things upset you, please stop reading now!

“So, what’s it this time? Ivy again?” Jason rolled the words in his mouth, tender jaw shifting, “She dripping sweet, sweet poison into you Dickie-bird?”

 

Poised, balancing on one foot the other stretching behind him, Dick glanced over at him, lips quirking. Yeah, Jason knew that grin, that flash of teeth and that crinkle at the corner of Dick’s eyes. It was a grin that Jason knew almost exclusively from his time as Robin. It was Dick’s fond teasing grin.

 

Or it would have been. Once.

 

It didn’t seem right to label it as such now, not with the way it warped the bloodstains across his cheeks.

 

“Can’t it just be me Jay?” Dick drawled and lazily stretched, body taunt and relaxing, flexing and releasing.

 

Jason raised an eyebrow, purposefully glanced up at the one thing he’d been avoiding since coming in.

 

“Yeah.” His words dripped with sarcasm, “Cause this is _all_ you Dickie.”

 

Like it was a compliment, Dick beamed. His entire face lit up, body straightening in a stretch as if to stand taller. A real kid on Christmas.

 

With blood splatter on scattered across his cheeks.

 

“Oh he was a challenge, but hey, a boy besting his mentor, that’s a stage of growing up don’t you think?” Dick fell from his stretch, rolling up into an easy stance, still grinning, “I mean, he didn’t fall for _any_ of the traps I laid, I had to drug him personally.”

 

If he’d been a normal person, the kind that didn’t see murders everyday, didn’t live with the worst of people, didn’t stand up to the plate and remove the ones who needed to go, Jason would have shuddered.

 

Jason gritted his teeth and looked away.

 

Jason wasn’t normal, but seeing Batman, _Bruce_ , laid flat on a table like a living monument high above the cave, well it wasn’t something Jason was exactly _comfortable_ with. He was alive, sure, Dick hadn’t killed him, used him as bait to draw Jason in. He was alive and breathing and a heart monitor set out beside him, beeped rhythmically. But with an IV stuck in his arm, and eyes closed, Bruce was out for the count.

 

“So he was necessary,” Dick continued to chat, eyes all too bright, too knowing, “However the rest? All pure me doing it cause I _wanted_ to.”

 

“You want to kill then?” Jason sniped back, relaxing further into his bonds, “Cause really, last time you weren’t man enough, and now you’re killing the little fish in the pond. Can you see now why I am expecting outside influences?”

 

Little fish. Little fish who bore faces that Jason knew from his research. Little fish, the henchmen, the delivery boys, who did it not because they believed in their work, but because of their families, their loved ones, and the dirt poor slums that made up the east end and the control the mobs have over them. Little fish Jason wouldn’t have killed, Dick had sliced through laughing.

 

All to get to Jason’s attention back to Gotham.

 

All to get Jason here.

 

It had to be Ivy. But this wasn’t her MO.

 

Dick rolled his shoulders, stretching his arms forward. Slowly his knuckles cracked as he flexed his hands together

 

“Can’t say I never wanted to kill before. Because I have, its just so…efficient,” Dick’s mouth stretched wider on the word, before pulling a hand back and pointing a thumb over his shoulder at Batman’s silent vigil, “Just never been able to, hard thing to do with a shadow his size over your shoulder.”

 

Wrong. This was all so wrong. That _wasn’t_ Dick.

 

“Uh huh.” Jason nodded, as mockingly as humanly possible, then decided to screw subtly, “So what’s the drug?”

 

Dick’s laugh was a peel of tightly constructed syllables, too perfect to be anything but an act. In that moment, he had never seemed more different that Dick from before, the original, unaltered Dick.

 

“Jay, Jay, _Jay_.” Dick drawled, stretch abandoned, stalking closer, a big cat closing in on prey, “I want this. I want this exactly as I’ve got it. Isn’t that all that matters?”

 

The distance between them fell away to nothing as Dick stopped in front of him. This close, Jason got front row seats to the explosion of Dick’s pupils, the blacks chasing the blue to the thinnest of rings. Drugged up to his eye balls then, and inescapably pleased with the situation, with Jason bound and, held prostrate against Dick’s wall.

 

Inwardly Jason swore, he should have never had faced Dick, should have done better research on why Batman was missing and Nightwing was killing, should have _read_ that message from Red Robin, maybe _found_ Robin and Alfred-

 

Curiosity. Cat. And seriously Jason thought he had learnt from last time.

 

“Everything you want? I’m flattered really but I have this thing where I don’t do drugged-to-hell-“ Jason started, unable to help himself, cause his self-preservation skills were still out apparently, if they’d ever been there.

 

A new smile came out on Dick’s face, self-satisfied, indulgent. His hands came up, fingertips brushing over Jason’s hair, path clear. Jason swung his head viscously to the side to avoid, swinging on his bonds. It was to no avail as Dick smiled tighter and chased after him settling in his hair and yanking his head back, back to met Dick’s glinting grey-blue eyes.

 

“Of course I want you. Your _mine_ , Jay.” Dick whispered, chest pressing against Jason’s, words like brands brushing over Jason’s lips.

 

 _His_??

 

No, no way in-

 

“Fuck you Dick. I’m not _yours_ , I’m not Bat’s, I’m my own-“ Jason started, anger searing hot through his veins, jolting forward to try and dislodge Dick.

 

Dick’s hands fisted tight in his hair, knocking him hard against the wall and Jason’s vision swum white, red, white and his head thrummed into a new level of pain. Vision flared back, fuzzy and blurring, and Dick’s narrowed, _narrowed_ , angry eyes ran like melting wax.

 

“You're mine Jason.” Dick purred softly, voice and expressions a sharp contradiction, “As you should have always been.”


	2. Chapter 2

Dick’s teeth dragged across Jason’s cheek, a strange almost animalistic gesture, but gentle, soft. A contradiction of lazy threat and… and something almost _loving_. He hummed as he did so, a low and haunting tune rising and falling, wrapping in and out of Jason’s thoughts. It sounded familiar, like a tune he’d heard once but forgotten all but a vague hint of its melody. He couldn’t think on it for too long, thoughts slipping through his mind and Dick smiled heavy and content against Jason’s cheekbone.

 

“You never should have been Bruce’s.” Dick spoke lowly, hands spreading wide across Jason’s hips, as if to get the impression of them rather than grab and guide him, “I wanted you _first_.”

 

Lies. It was always the same lies.

 

“Yeah cause you always cared.” Jason told him snidely, tongue large and unwieldy.

 

After escape attempt no. 2, Dick had started drugging his food with low level sedative. Jason had dumped the food on the floor when he’d figured it out but Dick, new slender, _powerful_ and batshit _insane_ Dick, had forced fed him.

 

That was not an experience Jason wanted to go through again.

 

The hands on his hips pushed down, pressing him harder, firmer, down on the bed that had become Jason’s prison. Sheets and pillows just as harsh as steel and concrete with the sedative wearing down his system.

 

“You drive me crazy.” Words like benevolence across his skin, like amusement from Dick’s sloping smile, “You’re so obstinate, so _stubborn_.”

 

“Pot. Kettle.” Jason replied shortly, turning his head as far into the cushions as far as he could.

 

His skin crawled with the need for space, the need to get away. He pressed hard as he could, body numb and weary, denting the cushions and sheets as he strained away.

 

Despite his efforts, all it took was gentle nudge of Dick’s nose against his jaw to move his head back into easy range for Dick’s causal explorations. Not even more than a thought of effort and Jason was spread in easy range for Dick.

 

He was so useless, so _pitiful_. Jason clenched his jaw, and stared at the distant wall over Dick’s shoulder.

 

From this angle he could just see the edge of a monitor, _just_ see the image of motionless body on a dais-

 

“Maybe that is why this is so perfect.” Dick murmured, laying a lingering kiss against on the hollow of Jason’s throat.

 

Motions like that, actions that would have spoke of gentle caring, of love in any situations… It was all so _wrong_.

 

“No Dickie.” Jason rolled the words in his mouth, tasting them like bile, “This is sick and it ain’t you.”

 

A convulsion passed through Dick, a ripple from his shoulders to his toes, and Jason’s wondered if he’d pushed too far again, if he’d pushed Dick over again, back into _pain-force-feeding-Bruce-tying_ -region of his crazy maybe-never brother’s brain.

 

Dick shuddered, chest bumping against Jason’s. For a brief crazy moment it was like Dick was crying, like Dick was _Dick_ again and he-

 

It was laughter. Laughter that crinkled Dick’s eyes as he raised his head, laughter that stretched his mouth.

 

The tiny spark of hope spluttered out in Jason’s chest.

 

He flopped over Jason, slouched next to him, grinning and chuckling. He bundled Jason like a toy, like an overgrown stuffed toy, into his lap. Dick’s hands were confident in positioning him, gently arranging Jason to have one leg either side of Dick’s torso, cocky because Dick knew Jason couldn’t fight, not now, not like this.

 

He couldn’t fight with punches or kicks. But-

 

“You’re not him.” Jason drawled out slowly letting the distain roll thick in his voice, “You’re a cheap drugged up mockery. A little doll being pulled on strings aren’t you?”

 

The taunt was sour on Jason’s tongue, nauseating like this whole fucked up situation was.

 

Dick’s eyes tightened, crinkling at the corners like a mockery of a smile.

 

“Still with that?” Dick grinned, demon-bright, “Oh _Jason_.”

 

This wasn’t Dick. Jason knew it down to his bones, knew it in the same way he still knew how Robins flew, still knew how Dick flew. It wasn’t- It couldn’t be Dick. Dick was kind, caring, a real butterfly of compassion and passionate defender all rolled into one golden package.

 

But this-

 

Dick’s head slanted. All suddenly it was as if Jason was fourteen again, broken arm and snarky attitude as Dick leant in and rubbed his nose against Jason’s, sickly sweet. Like it was the past and the real Dick was back and Jason wanted to bat him away, laugh, joke. Like Dick was nothing more than his stupid, dorky over- affectionate self.

 

The world blurred as Dick tugged him suddenly closer. Drugged and heavy, Jason tilted forward, helpless to the wordless command.

 

“How should I punish you this time for that?” Dick drawled honey-sweet.

 

Like whiplash, it could _never_ be Dick.

 

Jason managed his best shit-eating grin, feeling it stretch lopsided and _off_ across his face.

 

“Do your worst.” Jason goaded, already knowing it was too late, too late to get out of it, too late to do anything but prod the spitting snake further.

 

Dick’s smile glinted like knives.

 

Like a promise, Dick’s hands pressed him back into the pillows of his prison. 


	3. Chapter 3

Bruce’s room. This was Bruce’s room.

 

Jason’s eyes hung heavy across his vision, but even then, Jason knew, could _tell_ , that this was Bruce’s room.

 

The bed was the same, the same big, broad wooden frame the same from when Jason had glimpsed it as Robin. The bookcases were the same, dark wood and old cracked covers taking up a portion of the far wall. The walls were the same, the exact dark panelled royal blue walls.  There were differences, sure, Dick had installed monitors all along one of the walls, and the drapes were a different colour, but it was inescapably _Bruce’s_ room.

 

Dick was keeping him in Bruce’s room.

 

It was- that was-

 

No. It had to mean something. Something Dick was trying to prove, that he was the new Batman, … or maybe… or maybe Dick, the real one, was still in there.

 

It _had_ to mean something.

 

There had to _something_ Jason could use.

 

A sigh reverberated around the room.

 

“Maybe I gave you a bit too much this morning.” Dick’s voice was slick, sliding over Jason like an oil spill, “But you were such a _handful_ yesterday.”

 

A hand curled into his hair, long fingers twisting through the strands and fingertips applying just enough pressure that it skittered on painful.

 

“So you really brought it on yourself, you said the cruellest things.” Dick’s mouth was by Jason’s ear, he could feel it, the all too deliberate skim of lips against the shell of his ear, “Such hurtful things Jay.”

 

 _Yesterday_ -

 

Jason’s eyelids were heavy, sinking down tight, hiding Bruce’s room, hiding the monitors, and hiding the dark shadow of Dick across his pillow.

 

Yesterday had been a whitewash of pain, of swearing curses, of Dick’s addicted kisses across his shoulders and pressed against his panting mouth. Yesterday… Jason couldn’t even remember what he _said_ yesterday.

 

Dick sighed, warm breath brushing across Jason’s cheek, smelling of bubble-gum.

 

“You really are no fun like this Jay.” Dick voice was sullen, childishly annoyed.

 

A hand on his shoulder pushed Jason over onto his back, and his eyelids darkened as a shadow flashed over him.

 

“Open your eyes Jay.”

 

The darkness was comforting, the darkness hid, and the darkness was somewhere Jason didn’t obey Dick.

 

“Open them.” Firmer, harsher verging on-

 

Just like-

 

 _Yesterday with curses and kisses_.

 

Dick’s face filled Jason’s vision.

 

For a moment his expression froze, eyes too sharp, mouth too straight a line, body too still. Danger written in crystal clear letters across his face. But it faded, mouth curving, eyes softening, as Dick sat down beside him, pulling Jason like a ragdoll until his head was resting in Dick’s lap.

 

“Shall I tell you a story Jay?” Dick said softly, as if before had never happened, a stray piece of hair fell across his eyes, “Say anything, and I will tell you something.”

 

 _No._ Jason wouldn’t give in, never give in-

 

“It’s a bargain Jay.” Dick told him slowly, hands, always moving, always fidgeting, hands wandering to trace meaningless patterns on his chest, “I’d take it.”

 

An order.

 

Still, it was one Jason could try to use, try to get some leverage because this was Bruce’s room and-

 

“Bruce.” The word shaped hard on his tongue, cracking with his voice.

 

But it was enough and corners of Dick’s eyes tightened for a breath in time.

 

“Bruce?” He asked gently, kind face hard enough to be slipping into patronising, “I say anything, and you say _Bruce_?”

 

 _I will not break_. Jason thought hard, keeping his eyes on Dick and concentrating for his life. There had to be something in that expression, had to be-

 

Dick’s lips curved, but it wasn’t a smile. There was nothing warm about it.

 

“Bruce.” Dick started voice icy, “never loved you more than when you were dead.”

 

It hurt. Of course it did. It hurt like a knife Jason didn’t see coming, slipping between his ribs.

 

It shouldn’t have.

 

Because Jason had known it.

 

Dick’s fingers flexed, arms shifting so they sat across his chest like a cross, fingers digging down on his sides and Dick’s face hanging over his vision like the sky above.

 

“You were never good enough alive were you?” Dick continued, venomously soft, “Always never fast enough, never smart enough, never vigilant enough, never _enough_. None of us were, not one of us will ever be.”

 

It didn’t matter what Dick said, Bruce didn’t matter to Jason anymore. He didn’t. He _didn’t_.

 

“Then you died.” Dick’s fingers relaxed, “And you were perfect. A boy aiming to do his best, died saving his birth mother. And best of all, Bruce could blame himself for it, blame himself for all of it. Because you would have been so _perfect._ If Bruce hadn’t failed, you would have been the best.”

 

Dick started tracing again, pads of his fingers circling like targets on the edges of Jason’s ribs.

 

“But you came back. And you weren’t perfect. You were wrong.” Dick kept going, voice lingering on, “He still blames himself, oh yes, he will never stop, but you… he doesn’t love you as much as he did then. You aren’t that perfect teen he failed. What are you Jason? What are you but a mess of a man? Thrown the scraps of the All Caste, damaged and wrong-“

 

“Shut. Up.”

 

The words were slurred through his lax mouth, but Jason buzzed, burned with the urge to throw a punch, to seize up to hit and hurt and-

 

Dick’s eyes dropped down on him, lit by far monitors unearthly bright.

 

He moved. Like liquid and molten steel, Dick shifted until Jason was propped against the headboard, and Dick straddled across his lap. Nose to nose, Dick’s eyes flickered like lighting around Jason’s face, hands cupping his face tight.

 

“But don’t you see?” Dick whispered, the pitch of a fervent man, “We are broken toys, thrown away or lost and so unwanted. No one will ever understand us, no one, but I can have you, _I can have you_ and I will never let us be alone again.”

 

Then Dick surged forward, kissing him like a drowning man. He took the kiss, demanded it, pressing Jason against the headboard and-

 

 _Broken. Lost_.

 

Jason felt the drug whirl though his veins, thick and intoxicating, world too fuzzy around the edges, but he forced his way through it, anger singing louder, and brought his teeth down hard on Dick’s tongue.

 

Dick spasmed, tongue jerking away and body rocking back as Dick held a hand tight up to his mouth. Eyes dark like coals.

 

For a long tight moment, there was no sound in the room but Jason uneven and Dick’s heaving breaths. The Dick pulled away, moving to stand up, back to him like a wall.

 

“You’ll see.” Dick muttered under his breath, muffled with the slur of sore tongue.

 

He said nothing more, storming from the room, leaving only dust to swirl in his wake.

 

Alone, and with nothing to hold him, Jason slumped to the side, head spinning.


	4. Chapter 4

_Beep, Beep, Beep, Beep._

 

A high-pitched note rising and falling, A slow wail.

 

Jason breathed hard. The sound sunk through his pain-glazed mind, seeping through his buzzing body, etching across his attention.

 

An alarm. That was an alarm. That was an _alarm_ -

 

Dick pulled back, hands easing on the rope and Jason slumped boneless downward, mattress absorbing his screaming body. Agony lanced through him, muscles spasming in a rush of relief, painful-relief. Tremors shook through his limbs, body twitching out of his control, mindlessly, unstoppable. Muscles aching from being pulled too tight. The ropes were still tight around his ankles and his wrists, but it was better, so much better, than the agony of being stretched. He hurt, he hurt bad, but Jason would not break, he _wouldn’t_ -

 

“Oh look Jay,” Dick’s voice carried over from the side of the room, next to the monitors sickly sweet, “I think Timmy wants to pay the daddy bats a visit.”

 

The alarm. Focus. The alarm had been-

 

Damn.

 

 _Damn_.

 

Jason forced his head to the side, forced it through the ache in his neck that flared iron-hot, to the monitors that lined the wall that should have been full of books.

 

Of the six monitors, four were still, nothing but the slow collecting dust and the few bats that flew in and out. On the fifth, the exact same footage as the first two cameras played out, the cave entrance. Only in this screen, a red and black figure crept silently against a wall.

 

Feedback loop. But Tim hadn’t hit all the cameras. Jason’s teeth gritted. _Idiot_.

 

Dick’s smile was sharp like razors, eyes too dark, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

 

“He didn’t know I installed a few of my own cameras did he?” Dick beamed, a kid a Christmas, “Now you stay here and be a good boy while I go greet our little brother.”

 

Slick as liquid, Dick moved across the room, dropping a kiss on Jason’s head and turning neatly on a heel.

 

“I’ll tell him hello from you.” Dick said softly, grinning over his shoulder as he collected his escrima sticks.

 

He twirled them, tossing them between his hands, and then pulling to a sudden stop. Blades protruded from either end and Dick’s back rippled in pleasure.

 

“See you soon Jay.” Slipped out between Dick’s white teeth, hard like a threat.

 

Dick slipped out the door and the room rang with the metallic click of a lock.

 

 _Damn_.

 

Jason’s eyes bore harder on the screens, watching Tim move closer to Bruce, closer to _Dick_.  The fool was walking right into a trap and was no match, in any sense, to Dick. Especially not when Dick had not qualms in splitting skin, unlike what soft-hearted replacement could manage.

 

He had to do something.  He had to warn Replacement. Which -God. First times for everything but- he had to.

 

He frowned hard, trying to move his torso, trying to move his knees up. He had to move, had to get to somewhere, had to warn Replacement.

 

He couldn’t-, he was too weak-

 

 _Scritch, scratch_.

 

Jason froze. A sound like metal on metal reached his ears. Soft but almost definitely there.

 

_Scritch, scratch._

Head lolling to the window, Jason’s heart stopped.

 

Like a bat stereotype come to life, Robin hung outside.  His hands were quick and skilled, twisting confidently in the locks on the window and with one final jab, the window latch popped open. The slightest of smiles curled his mouth and then the window was up and Damian rolled in. He landed lightly, _like Dick_ , and took one look at Jason, bound and near nude with nothing but boxers, that Dick had pushed obscenely up to became makeshift briefs, and pursed his lips.

 

“It wasn’t my decision to save you, Todd.” Damian told him, in way of hello, batarang flashing out and already working on his ankle binds.

 

Lovely as always then.

 

“Wasn’t my decision to get caught.” Jason jibbed back easily, stomach twisting strangely.

 

Damian was here. Demon spawn, in the inherited greens and yellows, to his rescue. He shouldn’t. Jason was- Jason had-

 

“Congratulations, you appeared to have failed spectacularly.” Damian replied just the right tone of snide that worked its way easily under his skin.

 

The knowledge of his failure flooded Jason’s system like ice and he stiffened.

 

“Least I tried something and didn’t just hide.”  

 

Damian’s mouth pursed harder as he freed Jason’s ankles.

 

“I do not hide. And I do not wander foolishly into traps.” Damian corrected, tone blunt and knife ‘slipping’ to the smallest of nicks across Jason’s ankle.

 

Which hey, Jason would magnanimously forget because-

 

Christ. _Damian_. Top of Jason’s list of people he was no expecting to see. Speaking off annoying-

 

“Kid you gotta warn Red Robin-“ Jason started, watching Damian slip the batarang under his wrist bonds.

 

Damian cut him off with a look.

 

“Honestly your mental abilities are greatly lacking.” Damian told him, slicing his ankle bonds, “Perhaps saving you should not have been a priority.”

 

Jason got it in one. He wasn’t there. They had known about the extra cameras and were tricking Dick into leaving Jason, into heading down to the cave. The furthest point away from the room, giving them maximum distance between Dick and them.

 

“That’s actually not half bad.” Jason said slowly, rotating his wrists, as they were free.  

 

Tiny pricks of pain moved through his hands as feet, blood flow returning. But such small movements, the smallest of rotations of his wrists and feet, felt like moving weights. It was hard.

 

“I suppose.” Damian muttered back, words tart enough that Jason knew it wasn’t his idea.

 

Freed, Jason knew what was coming, the getting up. His head swum vaguely but Jason didn’t have a choice in the matter, he didn’t. He had to go, had to leave get out-

 

Biting his lip, Jason pulled himself up.

 

Which, in retrospect, was a truly awful decision.

 

Jason eyes blurred and as he rose the world seemed to rise faster like a race, ad Jason felt himself lurch forward, tilt, and fall into a swarming mess of greens, yellows and the dark wooden browns.

 

“Idiot.” Damian’s voice was tart and sharp, somewhere in the mess of colours and god, Jason did not want to throw up, “You should have informed me-.”

 

The colours swarmed, vaguely settling on a green and yellow splodge that held his arm and by extension him, up. Damian had gotten strong then. Jason was no light feather.

 

“Technically, you didn’t ask.” Jason commented at the blur, watching it start to shape into Damian’s gritting face, then because he had no idea what he was commenting at, “Wait what should I have told you?”

 

Damian took a lurching, stumbling step to the window, shaking under Jason’s weight and Jason could do nothing but let himself be half-pulled along.

 

Ok. So maybe Damian wasn’t as strong as Jason thought he was.

 

“The sedative.” Damian hissed lowly, finally reaching the window and pushing Jason against it, hands working fast procuring some rope and wrapping it like a makeshift harness around him, “You should have told me about the Bat sedative _he_ clearly gave to you.”

 

Bat sedative. Well that was unfair. That hadn’t even been around in his day.

 

Just when he went to tell Damian that, opening his mouth, Damian smirked, sudden and nasty and pushed him out the window.

 

Jason had one clear moment to appreciate the sheer bastardy of that before gravity caught up with him.

 

Colours distorted around him as he felt himself drop, for all intents and purposes leaving his stomach at the windowsill. The rope snapped taut, harshly and Jason bounced once and jerked to a stop, a dull burn around his waist and thighs where the little demon had twisted the rope.

 

Bile rushed into his mouth and Jason shook his head, forcing himself not to puke.

 

“Much more efficient.” Damian commented, suddenly beside him.

 

Jason opened an eye and glared at him.

 

“I’m gonna kill you.” He muttered, feeling queasy as Damian sliced the rope and Jason collapsed sideways into – oh no, it a sidecar.

 

He was gonna be riding in a side car. In Damian’s – _Robin’s_ \- side car. The big R on the dash burning against his retinas.

 

Was Dick really worse than this? Jason seriously considered getting a refund for this rescue.

 

“You wouldn’t be able to.” Damian was smug superiority, stepping over the bike, and gunning it into life.

 

No. Jason wanted a refund. Nothing would be worth Damian after this. Nothing. 

 

Damian’s mouth twisted once strangely, hand pressing something in his ear.

 

“Stop your fussing Red Robin, I’m out.” Damian corrected once, and viciously jerked the bike into life.

 

This time when the world stretched around him, Jason had the time puke and black out all in one. Damian’s cursing following him into the darkness. 


	5. Chapter 5

A cup of juice, _no coffee Mister Jason not with that sedative still lingering in your system, in fact I do not even advise the juice, water would be better_ , in his hand and dull headache ringing round his head that only seemed to be magnified every word that was shouted around the apartment, Jason considered the fact maybe Dick had killed him and he was back in hell.

 

“You should have called me.” Tim, prissy little Tim’s voice grated against Jason’s senses like bad case of rash, “That was irresponsible to-“

 

“We escaped unhindered. Perhaps you should have predicted this in your little perfect plan-“ Damian shot back just as heated, words like knives in Jason’s brain, hitting just the right pitch to be absolute agony.

 

“Plans are made to be adapted on the go, I had a backup plan if you couldn’t get Jason out-“

 

“If I couldn’t get him out?? I can manage more than that overgrown gorilla-“

 

Insulting each other? Yeah sure. Fine. But Jason was the innocent party in this, the twerps.

 

“If you two don’t shut it.” Jason hissed, eyes slitting open, “I’m going to cut out your tongues and feed it to each other..”

 

Sure he didn’t have his knives, _no guns and knives in this apartment Mister Jason, stop looking at me like that_ , but Jason had a glass of juice and his creativity. It was enough.

 

Like he’d thrown water over two cats, Damian and Tim both swung around to him, red hot violence on Damian’s face and cold nothingness on Tim’s. 

 

“I would dare you to Todd, but that would be too easy for me-“ Damian started, body ramrod straight.

 

“We could have left you there-” Tim overrode snidely, snapping faster than Jason thought he would.

 

Jason’s back prickled.

 

“I didn’t ask you to save me. That was all on you and if you expect me to be grateful-“ Jason voice picked up pace and pitch, head pounding louder.

 

A cupboard door slammed shut and all three of them swivelled instinctively toward the sound.

 

Alfred stood there with a bland expression, just like he hadn’t just slammed the cupboard door shut, and eyed them all equally.

 

“I hope we are all getting along?” Alfred not-asked smoothly, words slick but an iron underneath them, “And thinking of the greater picture of the danger this brain-chemistry-altered Nightwing poses to Gotham?”

 

Drugs. Damn, Jason _knew_ it.

 

Tim was the first to move, face smoothing out with a nod.

 

“Of course Alfred.” Tim replied first, the little suck up, and moved quietly and without any eye contact to sit at his laptop on the other side of the table, fingers flying.

 

Damian rolled his eyes, and leant against the wall without a word, and then Alfred’s steady gaze crept to Jason. Something determinedly more blaming in the gaze than when he’d looked at Tim or Damian.

 

Yeah. Uncalled for. Jason gritted his jaw and looked down at his juice.

 

“Good.” Alfred said, announcing to the sudden still as if they all agreed, “Now shall we consider our next move, or would you like to all sit around pouting?”

 

“Personally I vote the pouting option.” Jason voiced, unable and unwilling to stop himself, “Its quieter for this bitch of headache.”

 

Two other incredulous gazes turned to him and Alfred’s eyes lingered on.

 

Jason shrugged, and put his head against the cool table and sighed.

 

God damn he hated the youngest bat brats. Leaving was not an option either. Not with Dick on the loose and under someone else’s influence, not with Bruce caged. And as much as Tim and Damian could annoy and pester, and as much as Alfred could quietly work on the sidelines, they needed someone to take on Dick head on. And that person sure as hell wasn’t Damian or Tim. It wasn’t a brag, nothing but the truth that Jason was the only one here who could go toe-to-toe with Dick and actually last.   _Last_ but even Jason didn’t know about winning. Not with Dick fully unleashed from his moral system.

 

Jason sighed again.

 

Coming back to Gotham really had been a stupid decision. Life had been so much simpler with Roy’s dry wit and Kori’s laugh, nothing but them and a world full of murderous ancient mystic aliens.

 

Yeah. Good times.

 

“Ok. So Alfred,” Tim said to the silence, ruining the peace Jason had craved, typical, “What has Dick done since we’ve come back?”

 

There was a scratch of wood on the floorboards, a chair sliding out and the faint hum of a Wayne gadget (some ridiculous named thing, Bat something, Jason couldn’t care less) coming to life.

 

“That bug Master Damian so kindly left in Master Richard’s room is still recording.” Alfred reported, “I have had the… pleasure of seeing the young Master destroy some very historic furniture.”

 

Jason winced, almost on autopilot. Even he remembered how much Alfred loved some pieces that were housed in Bruce’s old room.

 

“Of course he is vexed.” Damian ground out, “We took his chew toy rather than saving my father.”

 

Chew toy. Jason felt something surge in his chest. Ha, chew toy.

 

Truer than Damian knew, or maybe – _he had been there, he had seen Jason bound on the bed, boxer’s pushed up high_ \- he did. The feeling instantly grew worse.

 

Dick had him helpless, had him gasping and- and still the man hadn’t left a damned mark on him. Nothing but faintly healing scratches. Nothing permanent, nothing lasting; only aching bruises and swollen joints.

 

_Dick’s smile pressed against his forehead, a hand curled in hair, and Jason hurt, ached, felt sick and-_

 

“And you know very well why we did, Master Damian.” There was a hint of reproach in Alfred’s voice, Jason would have preferred more, “There is sufficient evidence to suspect that if we take the sedate out his system, he could die. We simply do not know-“

 

Jason looked up squinting, banishing his thoughts for somewhere deep in his mind and focusing on the far more acceptable anger that rose at those words.

 

“So I was the guinea pig was I?” Jason drawled out slowly,  “Golly, I feel loved.”

 

Alfred’s gaze flickered for a moment.

 

“You, unlike Master Bruce, are not comatose. I never would have put you in danger-“

 

A dry, scratching huff worked its way out of Jason’s throat.

 

Yeah.  _Sure_.

 

Jason knew his worth. Knew his worth compared to Bruce more.

 

“Stop complaining Todd.” Damian, the loyal lapdog, bit out, shoulders hunching up as he came to stand closer to Alfred, “You are alive which is more than you deserve.”

 

Deserve. Right. Jason the dead robin should have stayed the dead robin. He had deserved death at the end.

 

Like Jason didn’t know that already.

 

“Last time I checked,” Jason ground out, muscles tensing for a fight he suddenly needed, _wanted_ , “I didn’t ask for that either.”

 

The tension in the room rocketed up,  an almost tangible press against his skin. The glass cracked in his hand, a loud break, and Alfred flinched. Slowly Tim stood out of his chair, hands out beside him.

 

_Broken, lost_. Dick had said, _never good enough_. _Never wanted enough_.

 

“Ok, lets just refocus.” Tim started, “Lets just look at how-“

 

“If you don’t like living,” Damian said slowly, tone strangely empty, like a child assassin could know, “You know what to do.”

 

“ _Damian_.” Alfred’s reprimand was a whip crack, “I really think that is an inappropriate-“

 

_You were better dead to him._

 

Jason felt the convulsions coming, felt his stomach seize warningly. It was all the forewarning Jason needed. He rose, white spots spinning in his vision and sprinted to the bathroom. He fell, knees hitting against the white tiles, and upended the little food and juice he had ingested.

 

_Mine. Mine. Mine._ Dick’s voice chanted in his head, sickly pleased.

 

He clutched the rim, stomach heaving again but nothing coming out of his mouth. He felt the sweat prick along his forehead, under his arms, as his stomach heaved uselessly again and again.

 

There was a soft sigh behind him and a cool towel pressed over his forehead.

 

“The juice was not a good idea, was it?” Alfred’s voice was soft, gentle and Jason shut his eyes.

 

Great. There went the last of his dignity. The Red Hood throwing up because of a bit of juice, a child’s taunts and the haunting words of a drugged Nightwing.

_Nightwing. Dick’s smeared kisses against his forehead as-_

 

He dry heaved again because his body _hated_ him.

 

“I’m sorry.” Alfred sounded old, strangely old, “I should have insisted on your bed rest or at least separation until you were well enough.”

 

Jason panted, rocking back on his heels, eyes closely shut.

 

Dick wasn’t here. Dick wasn’t here and Jason was better than that. 

 

Alfred wiped the cool towel down his face, across the back of his neck, and rested it back against the forehead. A smooth even press, just like Alfred’s touches had always been, just like Jason was sick and thirteen again, like the years hadn’t passed.

 

An old ache throbbed in his chest.

 

“Shall we get you back to bed?” Alfred asked quietly, voice still impossibly old.

 

Jason gave the slightest of nods, body aching and unwell, and Alfred slung his arm over his shoulder and they got up.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim's plans were missing something. Tim's plans were always missing something.

“How many?” Alfred asked heavily.

 

“A new criminal every hour.” Tim replied, voice soft,  “Today it’s the petties. Tomorrow, he’s starting with rapists, murderers.”

 

“Good god.” Alfred breathed out, voice almost hushed.

 

“He’s barely Grayson anymore.” There was a thump from Damian, “He’s only getting worse. Drake-“

 

“Oral ingestion and it should work.” Tim sounded tired, “We’d need a trap-“

 

“And to work together-“ Alfred interjected.

 

“-to bind Dick and force it down him.” Tim continued as if Alfred had never spoken.

 

Another sharp thump.

 

“We’d need bait. We’d need to draw him in.” Damian listed, another sharp thump, “We’d need to overwhelm him. And how, would you propose we do that? Our previous methods have hardly been successful.”

 

Jason leant against the wall, the conversation seeping under the closed door. His fingers tapped restlessly against his thigh.

 

They’d been talking nonstop since Tim had arrived back. From where, Jason hadn’t gathered, but the information he had brought with him about Dick… To use Damian’s earlier insult, they’d taken the chew toy and the dog had turned rabid.

 

Testing, Jason stretched his arms out before him. Slowly taking them back to push against the wall to stand tall. Where yesterday had been nausea and pain, today there was nothing to slow his vision, only clarity, and a bone deep stiffness within his limbs.

 

And not a mark on his skin.

 

“I’ve been working on that.” Tim sounded strangely enthused, “a field of Tasers, set to be indistinguishable from an ordinary rooftop but enough to stun anyone within, nonlethal. With a believable enough trap before, say an ambush with some shooting nets…”

 

Jason stretched down, pulled himself up, and twisted to the side. Slowly working out the knots in his body.

 

The plan was viable, of course it was, it was Tim’s plan. But missing something. Tim’s plans were always missing something. Just like Dick’s always had a loophole and Damian’s were always too obvious, Tim’s always lacked an element to make them perfect…

 

“I’ll send the message.” Damian said punctually.

 

“I’ll set it up. Safe house roof west side. Dick knows where it is.”

 

“And I’ll continue my monitoring duties then?” Alfred queried lightly.

 

“It’s for the best-“

 

Jason pushed open the kitchen door.

 

“I’m assuming I’m the bait?”  Jason asked, without hesitation.

 

Tim exchanged a fast glance with Alfred. Damian didn’t even grace him with a look.

 

“We actually don’t need you there, its just to-“

 

“No.” Jason corrected instantly, “You need me there.”

 

Tim watched him measuredly; Damian side-eyed him but neither, tellingly, objected.  Seeing he had the space, Jason swung into a chair, legs either side.

 

“Since we are all so heartily agreeing to my presence,” Jason continued, blithely cheerful, “Time to let me know the back up plan.”

 

This silence was different to the one before. Heavier. Stiffer. Damian slammed the knife down in it, breaking the still with a dull thud. Alfred’s face grew older as he took a sip of tea and Jason’s eyes slipped to Tim.

 

Silence was always more telling than words.

 

But what this silence was telling Jason-

 

“So either you don’t have a backup plan.” Jason started, not even believing that could be an option for a second, they were bat brats after all, “Or-“

 

“It’s not like we have a choice.” Tim defended tightly, hands tight, “Its not like we wouldn’t choose anything over it-“

 

Of course they would. They were breaking Bruce’s golden rule. It was sacrilege. They were desperate.

 

“So big bats away and the birds turn carnivorous.” Jason couldn’t help himself, mouth running away, “Or maybe _cannibalistic_ would be a better word.”

 

“Jason.” Alfred sounded old, these last two days he’d sounded so _old_ , “Since your capture, you’ve missed a great many things. There are too many criminals being released, too many innocents in danger even as we speak... More are coming but even with Robin and Red Robin patrolling endlessly-“

 

“Richard wouldn’t want to keep living like this.” Damian said, a note of finality in his young voice as he slammed the knife down again, “Not at this high a price.”

 

No. He wouldn’t.

 

Jason leant back. They would kill him. They would kill Dick to stop him. The idea was staggering. Not just staggering, almost beyond comprehension. To kill the first boy wonder, the ‘big brother’ Tim and Damian both adored… No wonder Tim and Damian were at each other’s throats. Who would even be behind the killing blow? Despite their careful words, and their careful backup plan, Jason was sceptical either would have it in them to do it. Damian, sure, maybe the more likely, but even so to kill Dick?

 

But Jason could. He could-

 

_Dick’s smile was slick, his hands warm and teasing against Jason’s throat, spinning images of young days, careless days, when Dick had a collar and they’d danced on spires high above-_

Jason could.

 

“Not that I’m opposed to the violence.” Jason started, loudly breaking his own thought train, hands wide, “But what if I told you my backup plan was better?”


	7. Chapter 7

It was paranoia.

 

Obviously.

 

It had to be paranoia. There was no other logical, rational or sensible reason for it.  Just paranoia.

 

Jason couldn’t be feeling Dick’s approach anymore than anyone else could and Tim and Damian, both half-hidden, didn’t look any more disturbed than usual (Damian, Jason thought, always looked vaguely constipated so there was no change there). It was just paranoia.

 

Simple paranoia.

 

But didn’t mean it felt any less real.

 

It felt like an oil slick over his skin, smothering him slowly, oozing down his throat and filling his lungs. It felt like a barbed net that was being drawn closed and with every slow second that whittled by, dug deeper into Jason’s flesh. It felt like Dick’s hands pressing on his shoulders, pushing him down and Dick’s laugh pressing against his neck.

 

Jason just wanted to run.

 

Grab his bike and get the hell out of this fucking city. He’d done it before. Left with every intention of never, ever, coming back. He could do it again, could leave, leave before Dick-

 

 

_You’re broken._ Dick had murmured against the soft of his wrist, voice sweetly confiding, _would Bruce even want back even if you came to him on your knees?_

 

Tim’s red uniform dropped out of Jason peripheral, and instinctively Jason pressed harder into the low wall at his back.

 

Didn’t matter now.

 

“Showtime.” Tim’s voice muttered softly over the radio.

 

“Yay.” Jason drawled dryly, unable to help himself.

 

This was all a giant _clusterfuck_ about to happen.

 

“-tt-.” Damian not-responded before they all fell into complete silence.

 

Dick flew like he always had. Elegant, and showy. Flips between buildings, graceful extensions to shoot a grapple and rolls when he landed. It was poetry in motion and every stanza drew Dick closer to their surprise. 

 

Naturally Dick stopped a rooftop away from their trap.

 

It would have been easy to have him just land on the right rooftop and end this whole damn nightmare. Jason clenched his gun a little tighter and glared into the small vid screen he’d set up beside him. 

 

“Oh Little D, Timmy.” Dick sung out, rocking back on his heels, a bittersweet smile on his mouth, “You should really greet your brother better, especially since I so generously agreed to your deal.”

 

Just as planned, Tim rose from his hiding place.

 

“Hi.” Tim said shortly, voice dead, “Oh, you’ll excuse me if I don’t call you Dick. Brain-altering chemicals make all the difference you see.”

 

Dick’s smile stretched, as if charmed.

 

“Oh Timmy. I’m hurt.” Lies rolled sweetly from Dick’s tongue, “And now where is the little D? Oh Little D.”

 

Damian stayed in hiding. Jason barely even saw him twitch.

 

Jason was impressed. He hadn’t chalked up the little brat for having any self-control.

 

“Look.” Tim overrode, “Just to clarify our deal…”

 

“I’ll stop releasing criminals, and stop _tormenting_ Gotham.” Dick sighed like it was all such a bother, “And you give me Jay.”

 

Like a switch had been pulled, Dick brightened, eyes scanning the buildings and Jason shrunk harder against the wall. Heart pounding his chest and fists curled tightly and Jason wanted to run, wanted to charge in, wanted to-

 

But hell he wasn’t going to be shown up by Demon spawn’s self control.

 

“Jay you have to be here too.” Dick sung out lowly, voice merry, “I wonder was it your idea to come back? Or did our dear brothers guilt you into it?”

 

Every word Dick spoke felt like a needle in Jason’s neck, venom in his veins. 

 

“Do we have a deal?” Tim was firm, loud and Dick stopped searching, eyes flicking back to him with a smile.

 

“Course we do little brother.” Dick said easily, like it cost him nothing, “Now give me Jay.”

 

“Can I have a guar-“ Tim started, but Dick overrode him, flicking out a hand.

 

Finally, fucking finally, Dick moved to swing across to the right rooftop, grapple hooking onto a advertisement high above, and legs swinging out.  

 

“Oh Little Wing-“ Dick called out, feet hitting the trapped rooftop with a thump.

 

There was the slightest disappearance of one Tim’s hands behind his back and the net gun exploded, a net sweeping high in the air. Dick flinched hard and fast, and like any of them who’d been trained, he ducked down and leaped to the side and right into the arms of the real trap.

 

Damian was standing now, watching Dick as Dick’s attention snapped to him, something ugly crawling across his face and Damian hurriedly pressed the real trap’s trigger.

 

The tasers ignited.

 

Dick’s entire body shook, his mouth frozen wide, and his limbs twitching erratically in place. The lenses of his dominos hid his eyes, but Jason could vividly picture Dick’s eyes rolling back.

 

It seemed like an eternity Dick shook and trembled.

 

“ _Rob_ -“ Tim started, something hot in his voice.

 

Damian’s shaking thumb lifted off the trigger.

 

For a moment Dick stood, still as stone, then, suddenly, he toppled to the ground, hitting it with a hard thwack that echoed back to Jason. Like a marionette cut of its strings, Dick lay motionless on the ground.

 

Jason peered over the roof, too see it with his own eyes, to make sure that-

 

And Dick stayed down.

 

They’d done it. It worked.

 

Relief was a foreign emotion, bubbling away in Jason’s chest, but he felt it keenly. Felt it increase with each moment more where Dick lay frozen on the ground.

 

Tim was the first one beside Dick, but Damian was quick to follow leaping over rooftops in easy bounds, and sliding to a halt beside him. They talked low and hushed and Jason let them, let it al just wash over him, and shut his eyes.

 

_You can’t fight this_. Dick had laughed as Jason shook, _its over._

 

And it finally was.

 

Jason was going to motor out of this town like it was no one’s business. Hell, he was going to head straight back to the Outlaws Island, and just stretch out on the sun and sleep. Not going to pay Gotham any more attention. It’ll just be him and-

 

All his new nightmares. Golly, that would be fun.

 

But anything, _anything,_ was better than his own hair brained backup-

 

A gas-like hiss broke over the rooftop and Jason’s eyes snapped back open.

 

Black smoke was everywhere, thick over the entire rooftop where Dick, Tim and Damian had all been a moment ago. Jason stiffened as the sound of impacts – flesh on flesh, came through the smog clearly.

 

Oh _shit_.

 

Jason swung over his rooftop, and flew straight into the smog. His helmet filtered the air, so Jason wasn’t worried about toxins, but Damian and Tim had both not been wearing anything but their _stupid_ dominos.

 

_Christ_. Reason 505 why Jason was glad he had a helmet.

 

Jason scanned desperately around the rooftop, following the scraping sounds deeper, closer to the tasers, to where Dick went down.

 

A crack echoed, unmistakably breaking bones, and Jason prayed harder than he ever thought he would that it hadn’t been either of brat’s necks.

 

“Ah _there_ you are Jason.” A voice came from his right and Jason spun, gun loaded and aimed.

 

Dick stood there, a smile on his unmasked face – his domino was in shreds on the ground and there were scratch marks across his face, a hand around Tim’s neck and dangling him high above the ground, and a foot on Damian’s neck. Damian’s arm was twisted in a degree no arm was meant to bend, but both teen and kid were struggling, unmistakably alive, even if Damian’s face was green and Tim’s was fast turning red.

 

“And there you are Dick.” Jason played back, tone as cool as he could make it.

 

Tim choked, a spluttered, gasping sound, and Dick’s smile broadened, lifted Tim a little higher from the ground.

 

“You’re not going to attack Jason?” Dick asked, low and mocking, “Well, well, guess you never did care for baby brothers did you?”

 

Jason lowered his gun, heart ricocheting hard in his chest.

 

“I move, you break Damian’s spine with that boot you have there and crush Tim’s larynx.” Jason eyed Tim’s struggles, forced himself still, “Although if you keep up with that chocking, I really don’t have to worry about Tim anymore.”

 

Dick laughed, light and pleased and the sound sent shivers down Jason’s spine.

 

“Oh Jay, you are clever aren’t you?” Dick lowered Tim’ just enough so Tim’s toes could touch the ground and the middle bat sucked in air hard, coughing, “And I didn’t even need to tell you about the dead man’s switch I’ve got hooked up to some bombs at an orphanage.”

 

Anddddd there went Tim’s backup. _Great_.

 

“And I suppose you will let it all go if I come with you?” Jason drawled.

 

There was nothing, Jason realised with a dull throb, nothing he could do with the threat of a bomb above their heads.

 

“Of course Jay.” Dick said, so easily, so carefree, “And hey, I’ll even pretend that you all didn’t just try to attack me and keep our deal. Gotham free… all for you. Unless you think your worth more than that?”

 

Jason had to grit his teeth at that.

 

“Ayso-“ Damian spluttered suddenly, breaking through their conversation.

 

Dick’s smile never moved, but his foot did, pressing harder on Damian’s throat until Damian was clinging onto his shoe, mouth open and empty, Tim was raised back off the ground, and Tim’s eyes widened, hands weakly thumping on Dick’s arm.

 

There was really no choice.

 

“Let them go Dick.” Jason ground out, and dread pooled thick in his stomach, “I’ll go with you.”

 

Dick beamed.

 

“Of course you will.”

 

And screw having nightmares later, Jason was living one. 


	8. Chapter 8

“It was a good trick, you know, if I hadn’t just insulated my suit.” Dick noted, voice conversational and familiar, and Jason didn’t even know what familiar meant anymore – familiar for the crazy Dick or the old Dick? “but it wasn’t your plan.”

 

The binds were padded, no chaffing, _no pain unless Dick allowed it_ , and Jason was back on the floor in one of the mansions many rooms. Not Bruce’s room and briefly Jason wondered just how much damage Dick had done in his rage. If anything in that old room was still standing.

 

Jason’s legs crossed, arms behind him, he watched Dick on the opposite wall and smirked.

 

“Says who?” Jason drawled, slowly, “No one exactly signed the bottom line there Dick. Personally I think this is just a sign that those drugs really got to your brain and there wasn’t that much there to beg-“

 

Dick smiled back, overrode him.

 

“Oh it wasn’t you.” Dick said, an edge of confidence like he knew something. “It was missing your particular flare.”

 

So Jason wasn’t as unpredictable as he thought he was. Well that was a dampener.

 

“I’m flattered.” Jason rolled the words on his tongue, “really.”

 

Dick’s eyes narrowed briefly, smile tight-lipped.

 

“Hm.” Dick hummed lowly, “Which brings me to question what is _your_ plan Jay?”

 

“Dickie.” Jason laughed, had to, forcing it out cruel as he could, “You ain’t got the bats skills of interrogation.”

 

Goading. Laying it on as thick as Jason could, enough to make his younger self jut his chest forward with pride, enough that he knew Dick couldn’t let it go, couldn’t let Jason get away with that snide tone…

 

Come on Dick. Go for it, go for it.

 

And Dick did, his face contorting.

 

“Really?” Dick asked archly, and Jason’s entire body almost twitched out reflex, “Should we test this theory out?”

 

Jason smirked, found it easy, found it recklessly easy just to smirk and bat his eyes at Dick. His heart hammering away in his chest and it felt like free falling. His brain knew why he jumped, but his body was trying to put on the brakes.

 

“You’re all talk.”

 

Dick was straddling him in a half beat, and Jason’s tongue skimmed over his back molar, waiting, _waiting_.

 

 _The hardest part would be getting close enough_ , Tim had said slowly with a wary glance, as if he wanted to talk Jason out it, like he would of if there were any other alternatives.

 

There wasn’t. So Jason waited.

 

 _Its just the right amount of pressure in the right place._ Alfred had repeated, hands heavy on Jason’s shoulders like he didn’t want to let go, _just the very top of the tooth._

 

Damian had said nothing, but there was something like grudging respect when he tossed Jason his helmet.

 

It felt like goodbye when they’d left Alfred behind, when Tim and Damian had watched him trail Dick back to the manor.

 

Jason swallowed tightly, he couldn’t think about any of that.

 

This wasn’t the time.

 

Dick tilted his head, hot gaze heavy on him.

 

“I think I need to show you something new.” Dick drawled each word slowly, tenderly, and Jason’s hands clenched.

 

No. No, no Jason didn’t need new, he needed old, he needed Dick’s predictable torture and his lips pressed to Jason, Jason didn’t need _new_.

 

Jason wriggled his wrist behind his back, padded cuffs moving. Dick had put on the cuffs too loose, too distracted with having Jason so _close_ , and Jason was going to capitalise on that. He was going to have to.

 

They had to get back to old. Even if Jason had to force them that way.

 

 “Lets try this for action huh?” Dick smiled, and lent over.

 

Jason’s hand slipped free, and Dick was close, fresh, vaguely sandlewood-y smell right in Jason’s nose and he lent back, pushed himself hard against the wall, but Dick just moved closer, leaning over to the right, shoulder almost in Jason’s mouth, smile widening at Jason’s retreat.

 

When Dick bent back, and it felt like a small eternity later, a needle glinted in his hand, and Jason breath caught in his throat.

 

Jason didn’t want to be any nearer to Dick and needles than he did to tightly confined spaces buried under ground.

 

As if reading his reaction perfectly, Dick’s expression soften to something sickly sweet, and he ran a loving finger over the needle’s plunger. A drop of something green dripped from the end, and splashed on Jason’s bare chest.

 

Jason flinched.

 

“That’s the same old story Dick.” Jason taunted, words feeling hard and unwilling to come out.

 

Even Jason could hear himself sound weaker, goading less effective with Dick’s toy on display.

 

_Weak, helpless, and Dick positioning him like a doll-_

 

Jason didn’t want to go back there, would lose too easily if he went back there.  He _couldn’t_ -

 

Dick shifted on his lap, and Jason played dumb at Dick’s obvious interest in events pressing in his stomach. Played dumb but couldn’t help the small flinch backwards when Dick pressed forward closer.

 

“Is it?” Dick asked, all smug, all teeth and far too close, “Because I think this has more interesting effects than the other one.”

 

Shit. Shit. That couldn’t be-

 

 _Shit_. That was a whole new realm of problems right there.

 

Dick pulled the edge of Jason’s collar down, playing it like he was coy, coy with a grin that stretched across his mouth that would make the Cheshire cat proud.

 

“I assure you Jay, soon you’ll be seeing things my way.” Dick promised, earnest, “I’ve distilled this just for you, from my own very blood even.”

 

Oh double shit.

 

Jason tongue ran the edge of his molar, feeling the capsule of antidote waiting there, felt his free hand tremble behind his back. Looks like he had only one chance at this.

 

“Or maybe you’ll be seeing them mine.” Jason suggested, feeling the tension ramp up his spine as hand twitched waiting for-

 

Dick opened his mouth to respond and Jason struck.

 

Jason’s freed hand snapped out and seized the front of Dick’s shirt, forcing him in close enough for Jason to mash his mouth against Dick’s. His tongue flicked against his molar-

 

And skimmed harmlessly over it, missing the small catch, and Jason’s small window of surprise disappeared.

 

Dick took only a second in the kiss before he yanked away. His hand seized Jason’s throat and shoved him hard down to the cold ground, hard enough for Jason’s vision to flare white-black, and Dick ruthlessly pressed down.

 

“Seducing me Jay?”, Dick laughed, sounding shocked and pleased and everything Jason wanted to _wipe clean off his face._

 

His window was gone, but Jason wasn’t out, he wasn’t and with a choked-off snarl he threw a fist, but Dick was fast, too fast and caught his wrist easily, pinning it on the ground beside Jason’s head like he was some scientific experiment Dick wanted to examine, or you know, _choke the life out of_.

 

Dick vibrated, laughter spilling out like blood and Jason’s lungs began to scream, his throat on fire with pain, as Dick didn’t move, chest heaving ineffectually.

 

“Jay, Jay, Jay.” Dick chided and Jason thrashed, trying to throw off Dick’s hand, but Dick held on, pressed down harder, “We can try that again _after_.”

 

Spots glaring white-black spread across his vision and Jason gaped at the air, hand twitching under Dick’s hand.

 

There wasn’t going to be an after. Jason thought, dizziness spreading, Dick was going to kill him right here and all because Jason hadn’t flicked that darn pill out.

 

Alfred put them in tighter these days and _christ_ that wasn’t the lesson Jason wanted to take to his grave.

 

Died once from not listening. Died again from not listening.

 

Jason’s entire life was a broken record.

 

Then, when Jason could feel himself start to slip away, when his eyes nearly shrouded with white, there was air, precious air, and Jason gasped raggedly at it. Free from Dick’s hands, he curled on his side, gasping at the air, eyes stinging hot with tears.

 

Dick’s hand brushed against his cheek, maybe playing at being soothing, and Jason recoiled, curling in on himself tighter.

 

“There, there Jason.” Dick cooed, “It’ll all being over soon.”

 

Jason didn’t register the words at first, registered them too late when there was a tell tale prick in against his bared neck, and the uncomfortable rush of an injection sinking into his veins. When he looked, Dick looked elated.

 

No. No. No. _No_.

 

Jason thrashed, trying to land a punch on Dick, trying to hit him, he _needed_ to hit him, and Dick just let him try, stepping off, moving away from him to watch with over eager eyes as Jason contorted, snapping his chains hard, and tried to kick, tried anything, tried _everything_.

 

“Fuck you.” Jason hissed out hoarsely through a throat that burned, “fuck you Dickie and fuck your drugs and fuck-“

 

“Soon Jay.” Dick smirked, and it was a wicked _awful_ thing, “soon.”

 

Jason swore again, curses muddled over one another and felt the drug hit his blood flow, felt his heart beat rise, his body spasm.  It felt as if everything was rushing, rushing out of his control and Jason screeched as pain wracked him, racing down his spine, body forcing him into an arch.

 

Jason wanted to crawl out of his skin, it hurt, it was lightening across his body and his heart thundering loud in his chest and everything, everything-

 

There was a hand on his face, a needle in his neck, and everything went dark instantly.


	9. Chapter 9

 

It was wrong.

 

It was all so wrong.

 

It was all so wrong it burnt against Jason’s retinas until he found himself stumbling away from the window, away from the blur of sharp tall buildings. He stumbled on dragging feet, retreating back into the bathroom. The bile rose thick and acidic in mouth, burning up insides, and he only made it to the toilet just in time.

 

Not that it mattered. Not that any of it mattered.

 

What mattered? Jason thought _something_ should. But…

 

No.

 

Jason’s stomach leaped again, twisting and he hunched over closer eyes bleary.

 

Fingers wrapped tight around the porcelain, he held the toilet like a lifeline. Like it could somehow pin down his seasick mind. Like it could some how stop the jolt of his thoughts running through each other, the queasy lurch of his stomach.

 

Like it could achieve the impossible.

 

Jason sucked a breath through his mouth, and clenched his eyes.

 

Fingers brushed against Jason’s neck, feather-light and airy, and Jason jerked, nausea rearing its head high. The fingers slipped over the curve of his neck and shoulders, until it settled, and the shared heat between the hand and Jason’s skin lit like an inferno.

 

Jason’s stomach surged warningly.

 

Jason didn’t look back. Couldn’t.

 

The wrong-ness was behind him. He knew it. Felt it.

 

He gripped the toilet tighter and tried to will his stomach calm.

 

“Jason, Jay,” And it was Dick, just Dick who muttered softly, sugar-sweet, breath cool to Jason sweat-soaked hair, “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

 

It was wrong.

 

Why was it wrong.

 

It was just Dick.

 

Dick’s hands drifted like clouds in a windy sky, floating down from the arch of his shoulder to stroke along his back, up again to curl against the other side of his neck, thumb running up and down along the nob of his spine. 

 

It was just Dick. Dick was here. That was fine. Dick was good.

 

Dick was safety.

 

His stomach twisted violently.

 

There felt like there was something Jason was forgetting.

 

His throat seared, mouth open, stomach heaving and Jason hunched tighter over the bowl.

 

The heave was an empty one, no bile, nothing to show for the convulsing stabs but his clammy face. Jason gripped the bowl tighter.

 

“You’ll get over it.” Dick whispered again, words like butter melting on his tongue, “The reactions will stop.”

 

Jason wanted to hit him.

 

The thought was sudden, violent, and it washed out all of Jason’s wandering thoughts.

 

Jason wanted to hit him, and hit him hard.

 

He could feel the urge building, rushing like a rip tide, running through his veins like a bolt of adrenaline. And he could see it, could see himself lashing out, shoving Dick away, throwing a curled fist into his perfect face. Could feel the satisfaction welling thick in his chest as Dick stumbled back.

 

Then, with a blink, it was gone.

 

The anger, the desire, just… everything, all leaving in a dizzying breath.

 

And Jason was empty.

 

He pressed his cheek against the porcelain, and let the wrongness wrap around him, let it engulf him. Let it press like hands tighter against his shoulders.

 

Couldn’t care about anything.

 

“Come on.” Dick drew him back, Jason’s hands fell limp from the toilet seat, a wet towel running over his mouth as Dick mothered him, “Lets get you back to bed.”

 

It was all wrong but Jason was too numb. Dick bundled him up like a baby, clean now, and drew him back from the bathroom. He was careful, a steady solid presence and Jason let himself be led, let Dick’s strong arm around his waist guide him onto soft carpet and into the slanting rays of sunshine. Jason gaze swam, seeking the light almost instantly and the window he’d been standing at before.

 

New York was just as spectacular as it always had been; sun hanging heavy like a sunrise, maybe a sunset, and it was beautiful, it really was, but Dick moved him past that, onward, into the shade.

 

New York.

 

Why did that feel like a surprise. Why _should_ it feel like a surprise?

 

He guided him on the bed and Jason fell, sinking into the mattress, felt Dick close beside, the bed dipping down behind him.  Dick shuffled, settled, and Jason just lay cheek pressing heavy against a downy pillow and thought of New York. And Why New York.

 

Dick’s arm curled around his waist, tugging Jason back, bringing him closer to Dick’s chest, and Jason frowned. He tried to shift away, edging back to the side of the bed, but Dick’s grip was solid, strong, _confining_ -

 

It felt wrong, _wrong_.

 

“Gettoff.” Jason tried, twitching, slurred words running together, “ _Getooffff_.”

 

Dick’s arm pulled him in tighter for a moment, almost cutting off his airflow, and there was something, something about that action, something not-

 

He had to remember something.

 

He had to _do_ something.

 

But Dick pulled his arm back, ran a comforting hand down Jason’s side and a pressed a soft smile into Jason’s neck. Something in Jason eased at that, let Dick’s fingers distract him with light patterns traced on his skin.

 

“You’re sick.” Dick reminded him softly, and Jason’s thoughts blurred, escaped, “Just relax.”

 

Dick was never wrong. And Jason let himself be lulled, felt his body grow heavy in Dick’s arms, and dozed into a dizzying black spiral, easy with Dick’s hand carding through his hair like when he’d been sick that year, back when he was still… still…

 

Someone.

 

He drifted, letting the feeling of Dick and awareness seep away, let himself fall into the darker depths. He floated, aware only distantly of twist of his stomach, and he breathed.

 

He dreamed and felt that someone, whoever he had been, drift further away.

 

-

 

_There was a face, still and asleep, and body frozen on a dais and it made Jason’s heart clench._

 

“Jason.”

 

_And then Dick was there. Dick’s face laughing, but tone all wrong, not happy. Blood splattered on Dick, warping his face-_

 

“Oh Jay.”

 

Jason’s eyes flinched open and Dick was right above him, centimetres away. Too close, close enough to overwhelm, and Jason shrunk back hard into the pillow, eyes closing again at the sudden dizzy spell that rushed upon him.

 

“Open those big blues for me.” Dick hummed softly, and Jason didn’t want to- didn’t-

 

But it was _Dick_.

 

And even thinking his name made Jason’s heartbeat skip, made something needy crawl up Jason’s spine.

 

Jason _wanted_ to see Dick.

 

He opened his eyes instantly.

 

Something pleased twitched in Dick’s expression.

 

“You’re beautiful,” Dick said again, a underline of reverence to his words, reached a hand to press a hand against Jason’s cheek.

 

Jason leant into it, hooded his eyes and watched Dick watch him. Watched him closer as the pupils of Dick’s eyes blew out wider, watched as Dick’s attention dropped from his eyes to his lips and back up again.

 

And-

 

And-

 

Jason liked the attention, _wanted_ it, wanted all of it, focused on him, only on him. The desire was sudden, but rooted deep, Jason could felt his insides turning, twisting, could feel his hands tremble and he wanted to reach out, wanted to touch Dick. Wanted to grab him, pull him forward.

 

His breathing shifted, notched up, and Jason felt the white blur build around his eyes. Raised heartrate, fast breaths, no obvious injury, Jason recognised the symptoms instantly. Panic. Panic was building in his chest, but Jason wasn’t panicked, he wasn’t-  He was happy but-

 

Panic.

 

Jason’s smile faltered as sucked a breath through his nose, tongue curling around inside his mouth as if that could somehow control it, push it down-

 

There was a bump on his molar. Jason’s tongue froze at the foreign sensation, tracing over the strange anomaly, feeling something like a catch.

 

And there was _something_ Jason had to do. Something meaningful.

 

Something that echoed in the back of his mind, in the place that was fuzzy and vague.

 

“ _Jason_.” Dick was pleased, buzzing with it, “You see now don’t you. You _understand_ , there can be no one else, nothing in our way.”

 

It was strange how fast the panic died down with just a few words from Dick, how fast it was replaced by the rush of euphoria, the snap-click of rapid understanding sending tingles though his body. Jason sucked in a sudden hard breath, and moved. He moved up onto his elbows, up into Dick’s space, breathing in Dick’s air, breathing out his panic and letting Dick suck it in and –

 

It wasn’t close enough.

 

Jason had to do something meaningful.

 

And he had to be closer.

 

The two were related.

 

Jason leant forward, noses almost touching and Dick smiled, warm and indulgent.

 

“No one else.” Jason agreed, and felt drunk with it, felt drunk and euphoric with Dick so close, with his tongue on his molar.

 

The catch meant something. Jason hand curled up to press against Dick’s cheekbone. And that moment, Jason could feel its weight echo in his bones, meant _everything_.

 

“Kiss me.” Dick hummed, pleased and rich with it.

 

Dick didn’t wait for Jason; fell the final distance forward and captured Jason’s lips in a kiss, his lips wedged between Jason’s lower lip, in a careless tease. A test.

 

Jason rose to the test.

 

He opened his mouth, drew Dick’s tongue in and Dick’s reaction was instant. He groaned, low and deep, reverberating in the scant distance between their bodies, and one his hands latched onto Jason’s hip, curling in painful tight.  And Jason liked it, wished Dick would press in _harder_.

 

Jason would make this mean everything.

 

Jason wound his arms around Dick’s neck, falling back onto the bed, drawing Dick down with him. Dick’s followed closely, eager tongue scoping out Jason’s mouth and greedy hand racking Jason’s shirt up to get to the taut skin of his belly.

 

Jason would give Dick everything.

 

It was easy to roll them, Dick was willing, desperate on him, and when Jason rolled them, Dick did nothing but groan again, hands now tugging low on Jason’s pants.

 

Jason’s tongue caught the catch on his back molar.

 

This meant everything.

 

A bitter, chalky taste overflowed Jason’s mouth, and with their new angle, flooded straight into Dick’s mouth. Dick tasted it straight away, hands freezing, head pulling away as if to pull off, but Jason clamped his jaw still, fingers digging hard down on the pressure points and kept it open, kept pushing the liquid going into Dick’s mouth.

 

He would give Dick everything.

 

Dick had said kiss, so Jason kissed, something strangely vengeful pleased in his gut as Dick’s hands spasmed around his hips, as he started to choke on it.

 

Dick, Jason could feel his name chanted in his head, dick, dick, dick.

 

It didn’t last long.

 

Dick’s legs clinched tight around his waist as he rolled them again, the motion jerking Jason out of his grip on Dick’s jaw and giving Dick more than enough time to wrench away, to pull back from him and rest his weights over his heels, far from Jason’s mouth. Dick’s hand shot to his mouth, smeared the white on his lips and pulled away with it, staring at it.

 

“What was that-“

 

There was a lingering portion of liquid in Jason’s mouth and he swallowed it down greedily. He would take Dick’s leftovers, he always had, and he always would. Jason licked his lips.

 

Imagined kissing Dick again. Imagined grabbing his throat and squeezing.

 

“It’s everything.” He said, and it came out like a laugh, “I’m giving you everything.”

 

_Everything_.  It was what Jason _had_ to do, what he’d forgotten. A truth written in his bones.

 

‘No, no this was your plan.” Dick sounded off-put, painted white with shock, “this is what your plan was. But the drug… you should be...”

 

Jason caught Dick’s hand, held onto despite Dick’s instinctive tug away, and Jason pulled it down and pressed it to his cheek. He kissed the palm of Dick’s hand and watched Dick watch him woodenly.

 

Something like pins and needles had started up Jason’s fingers.

 

“Isn’t this what you wanted Dick?” Jason asked, and Dick wasn’t moving, staring at him, “Me to want this? Because I do. Oh Dickie, I want _this_.’

 

Like Jason had hit a switch, Dick’s eyes crinkled tightly shut, and he rolled away from Jason, leaving the bed with a rattle and Jason let his hands drift in the empty space for moment. Could feel Dick’s warmth seep away from him, fingertips cooling.

 

Jason felt the bile rise again, slicking his insides and the pins and needles were up his arms now.

 

Dick was retching, Jason could hear it, a stomach curdling sound, but Jason kept staring at his twitching hand.

 

He’d done it. He’d _done_ it.

 

The needles, the uncomfortable pricking sensation had arrived at his chest, and Jason sucked in a tight breath.  

 

“Dickie.” Jason rolled his words, let the sounds linger on his tongue, “It was for you, it was all for you.”

 

Dick didn’t respond, but Jason heard a thump, a thump of a body on wood floors, and Jason’s eyes slid toward the side, saw Dick on the floor, gasping into the ground.

 

“Jason.” Dick hissed out through clenched teeth, pain wracking his features, “Jay you-“

 

He bit off the rest with a low groan, forehead hitting the ground and Jason smiled.

 

Smiled harder as the needles turned to pain, and Dick’s bitten off screeches filled his ears. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter! Fewwwwh.   
> This has been a crazy ride. 
> 
> Thank you all for hanging in with me, for your kudos and your lovely comments and I hope you enjoy that final instalment of LW.

The window’s lock was easy to break. All it took was just a few twists; the right angle of pressure and the aged lock was popping out.

 

It was funny in a way.

 

Jason had been sure that the manor used to be harder to get out. He remembered it had been impossible to sneak away from. Bruce or Alfred popping to see his attempts with a raised eyebrow or a carefully amused word.

 

But. But Jason wasn’t a kid anymore.

 

And none them probably wanted him to stay around any longer.

 

Jason hands tightened reflexively on the window.

 

Jason had done his bit, his _duty_ , now it was time to get the fuck away.

 

He popped the window open.

 

Fresh air filtered in, heady with the sweet scents of the flowers, and it felt softer against his lungs, softer than the stale sick room smell. More welcome too and Jason breathed deep as he hooked a leg out the window.

 

It looked like an easy jump. Second story, soft gross below. Piece of cake.

 

Jason steadied himself to swing him other leg over.

 

“You are entitled to leave from the front door.” Alfred’s voice was calm, controlled, “But I’d certainly understand if you’d prefer the window.”

 

Jason felt as if his body had been flash frozen. One leg dangled in the free air, and the other was grounded in the room. His hands were still clenched on the windowsill preparing for his drop over.

 

Dipped in the room’s shadows, Alfred was a statue by the door.

 

Still like he’d always been there, still like the way he’d been when Jason had come back, had run into Alfred. Still like back when Jason had been burning from the inside, alive again, but so, so very alone. 

 

Jason looked down, looked at the open air and the soft grass. Looked, but didn’t follow through.

 

He pulled his free leg inside.

 

“So I thought that hey, the day was pretty and for old times sakes I’d better-“ Jason started, slouching carelessly.

 

“I don’t need an explanation.” Alfred interrupted, words heavy, hands clasped behind his back,  “But please, a moment.”

 

Words cut off, Jason pushed his weight back on the heels of his feet. He pressed his hands behind him, fingers curling in the grooves of the windowsill. 

 

“A moment?” Jason grinned, as bright as he could, felt it stretch painful on his face, “Alfred you give me that mud cake recipe of yours, and I’ll give you-“

 

Alfred’s eyes shut, squeezed together hard.

 

“Please. Please don’t Master Jason.”

 

Jason’s mouth hung open.

 

He shut it with a click.

 

His mind felt like white noise.

 

“I imagine you weren’t faking the last two days of sleep.” Alfred spoke again, something firmer, something more Alfred-like creeping in, Jason couldn’t tell if it was fake or not, “But I must confess, I don’t know how much, or any, you heard this morning.”

 

Jason curled his hands in tighter against the windowsill behind him, felt the slight tremor of old wood against his palms.

 

“Dick’s awake.” Jason said short as he could, fast out like they couldn’t hurt, they wouldn’t, “Bruce’s been awake, recovering.”

 

Alfred nodded, like this was all just a normal conversation, a discussion of fruit over breakfast.

 

Nothing gaping and wounding.

 

Nothing irreversible.

 

“Correct. Master Bruce is verging on wakefulness, but he still needs his rest, but we both know that is unlikely after tomorrow,” Alfred managed a slight smile, before it washed away, Alfred looked down at the ground, “And… Master Dick is awake and very much himself.”

 

_Himself_. Jason forced down the tremor in his hands. The real Dick.

 

He wasn’t the man who’d- he wasn’t-

 

_More_? Dick laughed, _very well_ , and Jason’s muscles lit up as if on fire and then he-

 

Jason’s knuckles whitened.

 

“Master Jason.” Alfred’s voice was soft, cautious, and it made the hairs on Jason’s neck stand on end, “May I ask just what… what happened between you?”

 

What happened?

 

_Boxers pushed obscenely high._

_Dick’s panting breaths painted across his lips._

_Jason wanted to kiss him again. Wanted to squeeze his throat. Wanted both. Wanted everything._

 

A flutter in chest built, manifested, and Jason found himself chocking on hiccup of a laugh. Something loose and unhinged shook in his chest. His knees bounced. His hands clenched and unclenched. 

 

What _happened_.

 

Jason had to press a hand against his mouth to muffle the sound. Had to look away and try to press it back in.

 

“When Al. What happened _when_.” Jason stressed, and it was ugly, twisted and Jason wanted to swallow it back in almost as soon as it was said it, but it was too damn funny, too sickly hilarious, “ _When_ I’d been captured the first time. _When_ I went willing the second. Or maybe _when_ Dick gave me some of his drugs because either way I have to say, it’s funny that you ask _now_.”

 

It was out of the open, hanging like something raw between them. The pink elephant in the room painted blood red.

 

Airing it didn’t relieve the hot knot twisting in Jason’s sternum.

 

Alfred blinked, face shuttering and he sat straighter, eyes wider. He looked like he was in pain. He looked like _he_ was in pain and some dark part of Jason relished it.

 

“Master Jason,” Alfred’s voice sounded breathless, pained, a moment away from spilling all those closely guarded thoughts, the poisoned suspicions.

 

Maybe, maybe he might even say something closer to the truth.

 

The truth.

 

God.

 

“Master Jason.” Alfred tried again, and his voice was no firmer for the second attempt, still wobbling like a spinning top about to fall.

 

Jason shut his eyes.

 

Cursed himself.

 

“ _No_ Al.”  Jason corrected, and he couldn’t look at Alfred, had to stare hard at the floor, “That was out of line.”

 

It hadn’t been Alfred’s fault.

 

When he opened his eyes again, Alfred was looking down, at his tightly clasped hands, face lined in shadows.

 

“I’m afraid… I’m afraid you are correct.” Alfred said softly, words shuddering, “You are correct and I-“

 

No. No Jason really wasn’t.

 

Nothing about him was.

 

That was the real punch line of this whole twisted joke.

 

Jason smiled hard, interrupted “Al, It was _my_ choice. “

 

_You could never kill me, could you Jay?_ Dick asked, running a finger, tracing the path of a bead of sweat on Jason’s face.

 

_There’s no one else_. Jason had promised later, lustful and desperate, clambering for something he couldn’t name.

 

It had been Jason’s choice.

 

He didn’t have the right to blame Alfred.

 

There was one person responsible in this room and Jason was in his skin.

 

“S’okay.” Jason reaffirmed, and tried a more convincing grin, but Alfred was pale, pale like he might have seen something else so Jason swallowed and tried, “I’ve been through _worse_.”

 

The joke sat awkward between them, Jason smile dangling dangerously off his lips. Alfred’s hands still were too tightly clasped.

 

“I understand if you don’t want to talk about it.” Alfred said finally, uneven, but an admission, a way out, “But I can be your quietest confidant.”

 

Alfred tried to collect himself again. Jason could see him trying. Picking up the pieces of himself that Jason had so carelessly shattered, fixing his cuffs like they weren’t already perfect.

 

Jason straightened, and Alfred’s hands stilled.

 

He looked like Jason might strike. He looked like he wouldn’t try to defend himself if he did. Jason felt ill.

 

“Yeah Al, maybe.” Jason shrugged, looked away, forced himself to relax.

 

Alfred eyes sharpened, and he stepped forward. With a carefulness that had to be studied, Alfred lent forward, pealing one of Jason’s hands off the window sill and pressing them between in own wrinkled ones.

 

“If you ever need me,” Alfred insisted, pressing down on Jason’s hands, “I’ll always be a phone call away.”

 

A lump rose in Jason’s throat.

 

“I know.”

 

And Jason did.

 

He knew Alfred would keep his word, keep Jason’s secrets if he shared them, would keep him to his grave.

 

Jason wouldn’t.

 

Alfred seemed to get that too, he nodded slightly to himself, compulsively patting Jason’s hand again.

 

“Take care.” Alfred said serious and earnest and a shade desperate as he pulled away, hands dropping away, “The others will know you’ve gone at dinner, until then you may as well still be asleep.”

 

Actions were more meaningful than words. Alfred was trying. He was trying so hard.

 

He didn’t need to.

 

“Thanks Al.”

 

And Alfred was gone, slipping out the door with a quietness Jason had always underestimated.

 

When the door had shut, Jason felt his smile slip clean off his face.

 

He breathed.

 

The jump was as easy as Jason thought it would be,

 

=-=-=-=-=-=

 

Jason thought of nothing but the smell of flowers, the crisp scent of grass under his feet. He thought of nothing but his path, aiming at the most covered route out of the grounds.

 

He thought of nothing.

 

The trees dropped away in a small glade and Jason lifted a hand to block the sun as he stepped into the sunlight. The first real rays of sun hitting his skin, warming him instantly.

 

Something eased in Jason’s chest.

 

He breathed in again and smelt flowers and grass, felt sunlight.

 

Thought of nothing.

 

“Jay?”

 

Defence. Jason leapt back, fell into the shadows, kept his stance wide and defensive. He would be coming quick, striking hard and Jason had to be ready because-

 

Because-

 

A heartbeat past and nothing happened.

 

_Nothing_ happened.

 

Instead Dick Grayson, pale, bruised looking eyes, stared at him hollowly from the sunlight. A big woollen blanket was wrapped around his shoulders and his feet were bare in the grass.

 

He offered a smile.

 

Jason flinched.

 

The smile dropped.

 

Jason thought hard about running.

 

“I’m…” Dick’s words were wobbly and Jason wished he would just stop, “I know you probably never want to see me again.”

 

Jason firmed his jaw, kept to the shadows, and watched Dick very closely.

 

He was _better_. Jason knew it with a clarity, a ringing experience. He was better and not drugged but Jason couldn’t lower his defences. He couldn’t.

 

Fear curdled sour on Jason’s tongue.

 

Too many times had he glimpsed the old Dick through the new. Too many times had he been fooled.

 

Alfred said he was _better_ but Jason couldn’t know, not for sure, not for certain…

 

“And you’d be right to.” Something ugly crept into Dick’s tone, and Dick’s shoulders hunched in tighter to himself, “I… I remember everything I did to you.”

 

Remember.

 

It had been different with Alfred. Alfred guessed. Alfred assumed.

 

Dick knew. Dick _remembered_.

 

Suddenly Jason felt his hands start tremble.

 

“I did some awful things Jay.” Dick looked fragile; a light wind could knock him over, not strong, not prowling, “ I’m sorry, _god_ , I’m so sorry, Jay I’m so sorry-“

 

“Shut up.” The words whipped out of Jason’s mouth before he could help it, “Shut up. “

 

Dick’s eyes were wide at the outburst, but Dick was observant, too observant, and his eyes dropped down to Jason’s quivering hands. Something pained screwed up his face, if anything Dick shrunk tighter into himself.

 

He was weak. He was weak and Jason could take him out, could-

 

“I won’t hurt you.” Dick said softly, hollow and empty, “I will never hurt you again.”

 

_Jason wanted to squeeze his throat. Jason wanted to kiss his mouth._

 

The tremble was up from his hand, spreading wide across his body, making Jason’s vision shift.

 

“I never wanted to-“

 

_Its just us._ Dick had hummed. _No one else._

 

“Stop it” Jason snapped again, “Just-“ 

 

_Jason struggled, limbs on fire and Dick’s laugh reverberating-_

_More. Jason had thought chasing after Dick’s lips._

_Longer. He’d thought, holding Dick down as he began to choke._

 

It was too much.

 

Jason clutched his head, feeling something bloom like fire in his veins, something that was gone and Jason wanted-

 

“Jason.”

 

_“Jason.” Dick had called rousing Jason from sleep._

 

_He was close, close enough to suffocate._

 

_Hands pulling up his shirt._

 

Jason hit the grass, could feel in under his knees, felt its give.

 

_“Mine.” Dick had purred against his lips._

 

A hand touched his shoulder and Jason jerked.

 

His hand whipped out, grabbed the arm and twisted. Dick hit the grass beside him hard and Jason didn’t think, rolled on top of him and pressed the hand against his back and held him pinned. Pushed him down harder into the ground.

 

_Jason wanted to choke-_

 

Dick did nothing. Held still against the ground and wheezed softly into the grass.

 

That was the past and this-

 

Jason pulled his hands back like burned, jerking back hard enough to topple him over to the side. He hit the ground on his ass, legs splayed either direction.

 

Dick _was_ normal, Dick _was_ fine and Jason had just-

 

“I’-“ Jason started, feelings hot and twisted, an easy lie springing to his lips but-

 

But-

 

Dick _knew_. It felt like hysteria crawling thought Jason’s veins. Dick _knew_.

 

Dick pushed himself half-off the ground, dirt smeared across a cheek, and Jason’s fingers trembled at the sight. Something hard pulled across Dick’s face, and he looked down at the grass between them, not raising his eyes.

 

“I deserve it.” Dick corrected.

 

 “It wasn’t you.” Jason amended, sharp because it was what Jason had told himself, over and over, as new pain eclipsed old pain, Jason told himself again “You were drugged and-“

 

Dick looked up and Jason found himself silenced. Ugly self-loathing twisted Dick’s face into something unrecognisable.

 

“I can leave.” Dick said quiet, like any louder would shatter them both, “If you want me to leave, I’ll leave.”

 

Leave. _Leave_. No distance would change it. Would ever change-

 

Dick _remembered_.

 

“Leave where?’ Jason asked, words slipping out, sharp and unrefined, “Dick you can’t-“

 

“Leave the county. Leave the hemisphere.” Dick’s face was stern, desperation seeping through like sand through his fingers, “Hell, leave Earth, Jason I’ll _leave_.”

 

There was a burst in his chest, and Jason laughed, unsteady and unsure and yes, yes this was hysteria, this was what madness felt like.

 

_Madness_. Jason still wanted to punch Dick, still wanted to bite his lips shut.

 

It was over though. The drug was free of him but Jason-

 

But Jason-

 

Laughed harder.

 

“That’ll solve it won’t it?” Jason drawled, laughing down at his dirt-smeared hands, “leaving always solves everything. Hell I died, you can’t get much more a final exit then that, and that just solved everything didn’t it?”

 

Dick’s breath hitched between them.

 

“I won’t come back.” Dick breathed it like a prayer, like some desperate grab for salvation.

 

Like they weren’t already all so very damned.

 

“That won’t work Dickie.” Jason felt the laughter slip, drop out, leaving his words cold and stale.

 

There was nowhere Dick could go. Nowhere Jason could go. It was too late for escape.

 

“I-‘” Dick had his head in his hands, fingers twisted painful sharp in his hair, “I need to do something Jason, _please_ , let me do something.”

 

The request hung in the glade. The sunlight streaming hot overhead and the grass a constant itch under them. Dick trembled and Jason clutched deep into the grass, an ache in his chest. An open wound bleeding into the ground.

 

He imagined leaning forward. Imagined seizing Dick’s stupid blanket and stop him going anywhere and just… just…

 

_Madness_.

 

Jason shut his eyes and pressed to his feet.

 

His legs wobbled, his chest hurting like he’d put a knife between his ribs, like Dick had slipped one there when Jason had him pinned beneath him.

 

Jason tried to take a breath in, but it stuttered short.

 

“Just-“ Jason voice cracked, he cleared his throat and tried harder, “just stay away from drugs kay?”

 

Dick didn’t laugh.

 

So Jason did. 


End file.
